


This Far to Erase My Scars

by DaniJayNel



Series: 100 YumiKuri Stories [69]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, F/F, Oneshot, based on "Erase my scars" by Evans Blue, part of tumblr challenge, yumikuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:19:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3911056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ymir has been haunted her whole life, and a deep yearning drives her into the deep icy north, onto the most dangerous mountain in all of the kingdoms. A demon hides inside, the only demon that can grant Ymir the only wish she wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Far to Erase My Scars

**Author's Note:**

> So after disappearing for a while, I finally have something to post. This took a surprisingly long amount of time to write. I don’t even know where I wanted to take it. I’m trying a more simplistic style of writing, too. Oh, and this is for a challenge that I’m way late on. Anyway, I’m glad to be back, and I hope that everyone enjoys the story!

_“Forever?”_

_Ymir revealed a broad grin. “Yeah,” she murmured softly. Her hand reached out to caress soft blonde hair. “Always and forever.”_

_Cheeks always so pink dusted over to crimson. Ymir’s heart skipped a whole beat, and undeniable warmth filled her chest. She chuckled. “Don’t look so embarrassed,” she chided softly. Gently she pulled the smaller body against her own, and kicked aside the thin sheet that had already slipped down to their waists. “I mean it.”_

_Krista shuddered and sighed wistfully with an exhale. “I know,” she said. “But it just feels wonderful to hear you say it.”_

_“Think I don’t say it enough?”_

_“That’s not it. I know that you mean it even if it takes a while for you to say it.”_

_Ymir’s lips pulled down into a frown of concern. She masked it quickly with indifference when Krista glanced up to see her face. “Words are nothing without action behind them.”_

_Krista’s smile was soft and gentle. Her blue eyes captured Ymir the moment their gazes met. Like stepping into a snare, Ymir was captured. Her mouth dried and she took a large, audible swallow, even though there was no longer any moisture in her mouth. “What?”_

_“Nothing.” Krista buried her face against Ymir’s shirt-clad chest, sighing. “I just love you.”_

_Ymir inhaled sharply. “Say it again.”_

_“I love you.”_

_She took a moment to deliberate. Eventually she relaxed more easily and pulled Krista’s form closer to her body. Their shared heat chased off the sudden chill in the room._

_“I love you too, Krista. Forever and always.”_

XxX

Weary, a hardened warrior struggled up the side of a mountain. Ymir’s calloused fingers gripped firmly on the rock edges and when she found purchase, she hoisted herself upwards. Eventually she reached the top. Pulling herself over the edge took more effort than it should have. A wound at her hip tore open when she stood, blood gushing out and staining the cold snow at her feet. Ymir hissed at the pain but ignored it. Stopping now for a simple wound would do no good. There wasn’t even any time to pause and crudely stitch the wound closed.

With a burn in her muscles and blood at her feet, Ymir moved on. With nothing but common warrior armour and a sword at her side, the ice chilled her to the bone. The captain’s cape that usually accompanied her uniform had been lost in the last battle. Spatters of dried blood littered her face and chest plate, but like her wound, she ignored it.

Ymir’s breaths came out in short, hard pants. Her legs screamed under the weight of her injuries, exhaustion and her heavy armour. Simply putting a foot in front of the other proved a fight. However, Ymir carried on. She did not know for how much longer she would need to stumble forward, but her gut told her to continue and she always allowed her instinct the benefit of the doubt. Wind picked up around her very quickly. Soon she couldn’t see.

An hour passed, or two. Ymir kept a hand in front of her face to keep the gushes of snow and wind from her eyes. It left little place to see, but in the distance Ymir finally spotted the gaping mouth of a cave—she had found it at last. Ymir picked up the pace and forced her legs to struggle through the last trek of this one month journey. So much time had passed and much had been lost, and with everything so close to an end, Ymir refused to give up just yet.

A few feet from the cave entrance Ymir felt the air shift around her to sudden warmth. She took in a gasp, and then flinched when a loud roar rattled her ears. She whipped around quickly and unsheathed her sword. From her right a giant creature lumbered towards her, with high, thick shoulders and fur so black that he looked like the night. He would have resembled a wolf had he not owned two large horns atop his head and thick, leathery wings. They barely even strained against the icy wind even as Ymir struggled against it. Her eyes narrowed to slits as the creature roared again and then slammed forward on four giant paws, claws out and dug into the soft, cotton-like snow.

“Damn you, beast!” Ymir bellowed. Her voice barely carried over the roar of the wind, but the beast’s ears twitched ever so slightly in acknowledgement. The thing’s black eyes narrowed in turn, and Ymir’s heart began to hammer in her chest when their gazes met and endless intelligence stared right through her. Surely a Bringr could not hold a brain larger than a pea, but there he was, staring at her as though he knew all the secrets for himself. Ymir felt rage take her, but she was not so stupid as to charge the thing in her battered state. The weather made the situation even worse. So she quickly sheathed her sword and then darted for the cave. Behind her the Bringr roared in rage and swiped a large paw down where her footprints had melted into the snow. His nails sliced through the blanket of white, destroying any trace of Ymir having ever stood there. Ymir did not wait to see what the Bringr would do next. She darted into the darkness of the cave and finally pressed a shaking, icy hand to the infected, swollen wound at her side.

If any god existed, they would not hear a prayer from Ymir’s lips yet.

XxX

Finding her way through the darkness was more difficult the deeper in she went. The wound at her side ached and pounded, and so much blood had spilled out that she felt lightheaded. Eventually Ymir simply collapsed against what she assumed was a stone wall. Cold seeped in through her armour and she began to shiver. Somewhere down in the cave the Bringr roared again, and Ymir knew that the beast would be on her in an instant. He could easily follow her scent. She had left a trail of blood as well.

“Fuck,” she cursed lightly. Her eyes had somewhat adjusted to the dark, so Ymir wrestled her chest plate off and lifted the torn fabric covering her torso to assess the damage to her side. As she had feared, it was bad. A huge chunk of flesh had been ripped out by a spear, and a clear hole went straight through her. A few pieces of skin still hung in odd places, and the unbroken skin around the wound became an angry, puffy red. If the Bringr didn’t get her then surely this would kill her first. Grunting in pain, Ymir covered the wound again and fixed her armour to her chest. The pain left her breathless for a moment, but then the Bringr roared closer and she scrambled onto her feet. Using what little she could see and the feel of the cold wall beside her, Ymir ventured deeper.

For a long while the Bringr remained silent and Ymir heard nothing but her staggering footsteps and her shaking breath. Occasionally she would stumble, and the motion would jostle her wound further. Blood still poured out, sliding down her muscled, brown thigh to her dirty ankle. Scarlet drops of various sizes remained in her trail.

After long moments of blind stumbling, Ymir finally felt the air grow thinner and warmer. Her eyes strained slightly when the blackness she had grown used to transformed into a light grey, and then eventually a soft, shallow yellow. Around the corner Ymir stumbled for the last time, and then she collapsed in a grateful heap at a camp fire. Where it had come from and who had lit it, Ymir did not know. She was far too cold, hungry and exhausted to wonder what this could have possibly meant. What she did know for sure was that it meant warmth. The cold would not kill her yet, and while she was at it, neither would the wound.

With sure determination, Ymir unsheathed her sword, this time without a threat in the vicinity. While the fire still crackled happily, she dropped the tip of her sword into the heart of it and then waited, watching the silver of her weapon glow a bright orange. She gently rested the hilt down on the floor and then, after removing her chest plate and shirt, picked it up again. Ymir didn’t waste time to consider what she was about to do. Without even an inhale she pressed the searing metal to her wound. The stench of burning flesh— _her_ burning flesh—stung her nose, but she ignored it and clenched her teeth as hard as she could. A second into it was all she could handle quietly, and Ymir tilted her head back to release a strangled scream of pain. After twenty seconds—ten on one side and then ten on the other—she dropped the sword and then collapsed. She panted harshly for a long while. The pain was nauseating, and if Ymir had had any contents in her stomach, then she would have lost them. But she didn’t retch, and only curled into a ball with throbbing pain still dancing at her side. It was only getting worse with each second, not easing. But Ymir was so tired, in fact, that not even the pounding pain kept her eyes from fluttering shut. In a short moment she dropped off into sleep, uncaring if the Bringr found her, simply wishing to just feel the satisfaction of rest one last time.

XxX

For a reason Ymir could not grasp, she woke still alive. The Bringr had not found her. In fact, it had seemed to disappear. Perhaps it had lost its way, or maybe Ymir’s screaming had scared it off. The brunette snorted in amusement to herself at the thought, deciding on that reason just to keep herself amused. It wasn’t enough to keep her mind off of her mission, though, so Ymir got onto her sturdy feet and headed away from the fire. Once more her gut urged her on. The clang of her sword against her armour was strangely comforting.

Darkness greeted her again, but the air continued to thin. Instead of making Ymir weary, it left her feeling better. She could breathe more easily, even with the large crusted wound at her side still aching. She managed to forget about it at least. Following the shift in air, Ymir eventually found a hidden passage that led her into a large pocket within the mountain. Large was probably too small a description—it was gigantic. Over twenty dragons could easily fit inside of the space without even having to vie for territory. The entrance to which Ymir had come was in fact a burrowed hole in the wall, and to Ymir’s very far right she spotted the actual entrance—a large arch with intricate images carved into the surface. It was blocked by broken boulders, unfortunately. The ceiling just above it had been blown in—or perhaps someone had purposefully broken the stone to prevent someone from venturing in, if anyone had even found this place before. Ymir had heard legends of men boasting their encounters here, with the Oasis—the name of the place whispered in folklore—and the demon Princess. Of course, none of them had been truthful. No one had ever made it here and lived to tell about it. The fact that Ymir still stood, breathing and semi-well, was an astounding feat on its own. But she had no time to stand and marvel.

Before Ymir a large stone bridge stretched out far. To either side of the bridge was a gaping darkness like no other Ymir had ever seen, and peering over the edge made her believe that it dropped down to the very core of the planet. At least the walkway was very spacious, and it would take a hundred people all lined up to push someone off the edge. Despite that, Ymir made sure to situate herself in the very centre of the bridge, and then she set off. It was still too far and dark to see what waited in the distance, but Ymir would see it soon enough.

Soon turned into eventually, and Ymir had to stop to rest. Hours had surely passed since finding this place, but for a while Ymir had been especially urged on by a strange tingle along her skin. _I’m here,_ she told herself. _Finally here, after searching an eternity._ She needed to find the demon, speak to the creature and beg for her wish. That was the only reason Ymir had ever made it to the tender age of twenty-five. Since a young age, Ymir had known to come here. ‘Here’ having always been a mere sensation, a tug in a direction. But years of searching gave her a name, a person and a somewhat murky idea of a face. Legend had it that the demon was beautiful. Far more beautiful than any fare woman that had ever walked the ground. Ymir didn’t care about mere beauty. It was the promise of an ultimate wish that spurred her on so. Ymir had a burning desire. Something she desperately needed. Only the demon could give it to her.

After resting enough to catch her breath, Ymir set off. Not much farther remained. Only twenty more minutes had her on the bridge, and then she stepped off of it and onto a grassy meadow that had somehow grown into the rock surface. There was a grassy path that led her farther in, and then an open doorway greeted her. This doorway was transparent and crackling, and realization dawned too easily on Ymir—this was the demon’s magic. Ymir removed her sword and prepared to test the barrier, but it suddenly flickered. Once, twice and then the way opened, the light blue transparency disappearing. Ymir stood a moment in frozen silence, eyes flicking side to side. Her ears strained, but no sounds met her. She relaxed and put her weapon away, and then stepped through the threshold.

Bright shafts of sunlight broke the damp darkness. All around various pockets of water emitted slight drips. Ymir heard them first. _Drip… drip… drip._ Then the warmth of the sun bit into her skin, and she hissed as she moved out of the beams and into the shadow—being cold so long had her more sensitive to sunlight. Then Ymir’s eyes roamed around the smaller cave room, and she came to a halt at the sight that greeted her. Atop a stone throne covered in tendrils of coiling plants growing black roses with red thorns was the most beautiful face Ymir had ever seen. Pale blue eyes watched her intently and Ymir’s body almost seized completely. She clutched at her chest, wishing suddenly that her armour was gone so that she could grab a fistful of her shirt and press a fist to her skin, just by her heart. Her teeth clenched tightly, and then she took in a calm breath and stepped forward. Ymir made sure to avoid the beams of light from the broken ceiling, though she was slowly growing less sensitive to it thanks to the natural heat biting off the cold frost of the air. Finally Ymir made it to the foot of the throne, and once there she paused, took a breath and rested her hand on the hilt of her sword.

“I am Ymir of house Titanious. Are you the demon Princess I so seek?”

The demon seemed to unfreeze from her rigid position, and her head jerked unnaturally to the side. Her pale eyelids fluttered shut, her red lips pressing into a firm line. A slight shade of pink dusted her features, drawing life into her face, and Ymir stood nervously in waiting. “And what if I am?” she spoke softly. It was almost too softly to catch, but Ymir did.

Her voice was disconcerting—soft with a hint of warmth, but caked in ageless cold and unconcern. If in another life or perhaps another setting, her voice would have been like a melody. It would have added warmth to the air, light to the sky. But it made Ymir uncomfortable, and she pressed her free hand more firmly against the hard metal at her chest.

“I bring with me a wish to be granted.”

“A wish?” the demon repeated. She smiled now. It wasn’t sardonic or amused, it was sad. “And what of this wish? Am I expected to fulfil it?”

Ymir swallowed. Maybe she hadn’t thought this out completely. Who was to say the demon would have even granted her wish? Could it even do that? What if all Ymir had heard all her life were mere tales—stories told to the children to scare them into behaving? Ymir suddenly felt uncertain and concerned, and she took a small step backwards, a hand still at her sword.

“A simple one,” she assured. “If you are able, it should not be of too much effort.”

The demon’s light blonde eyebrows came together in what appeared to be worry. She stood slowly, smoothly. Her movements were painfully graceful, and Ymir wondered why she immediately recognized them.

“What is it, then?”

The demon took the steps down from her throne. The tail from her long, dark dress carried after her. It was only then, watching the creature saunter, that Ymir noticed the dark horns splitting out of the woman’s head. The demon’s golden hair spilled down under it, and Ymir wondered if they ever hurt. They weren’t all that large, but they were dark and noticeable, and for a short moment Ymir couldn’t look away. Suddenly the wound at her hip began to ache, and Ymir tore her eyes away to catch the demon’s burning gaze. A moment ago those eyes were cold, but now they were blazing.

“I wish for the removal of my scars,” Ymir uttered. Her tongue felt heavy and dry—as did her mouth. She swallowed, but that did nothing.

“Scars?” the blonde Princess questioned. She paused a mere foot away. “Show me.”

Ymir stared into those captivating eyes as she dropped her hand from her sword and then lifted it to tug at her chest plate. It came away easily this time, and Ymir didn’t think twice of pulling her shirt off, and then the under-bindings that she used to keep her chest from hindering her movements. Her breasts were small and unappealing, though even if they had been, the demon was not looking at them. She stared wide-eyed at the large, angry scar that seemed to have penetrated the very centre of Ymir’s chest, branching out to the side, reaching for her heart.

“I was born with these,” Ymir explained. “They hurt. I want to be rid of them. They plague me. Can you do that? I am willing to do anything.”

The demon’s eyes snapped up to meet Ymir’s brown gaze. The fire was gone. “Even for your life in exchange?”

Ymir exhaled. “If my life is the price, then I will simply re-dress and leave. There will be no damn point then.”

“True.”

“So? Are you going to stare or do something? I have been looking for you for years.”

“What did it take to get here, Ymir? What did you have to do to reach this far?”

Ymir held her breath, and then exhaled when she spoke. “Why do you want to know?” Her heart began to thump, and like it always did, her scar started to throb. It felt as though each beat of her heart pierced into the scar tissue, and Ymir choked on a breath as she placed a large, scarred hand against the damaged flesh. “Please. I can’t take it anymore.”

The demon’s face contorted into sorrow, and Ymir forgot her pain for a breathless moment to battle the urge to reach out and pull the blonde’s small body against her own. Her arm reached out without her realizing, and she quickly pulled it back to her chest.

“Historia,” the demon choked out. “My name is Historia. But you know me as Krista.”

Ymir’s brows furrowed. “Know you?”

Krista’s smile was tragic, and a trail of tears spilled over her cheeks. “A thousand years it has been, my love. But the first thing you ask of me is if I can take away a physical imperfection.”

Ymir felt a blush spread out over her freckles. Suddenly her nakedness dawned on her, and she covered her breasts with her arms. “I don’t understand…”

“Very well.” Krista sighed sadly and then took the final step forward. “I will remove your scar for you. I am the only one that can, anyway.”

Ymir had no time to react. Krista’s small, strong hands pulled her arms away and then pressed against her chest. One hand covered her scar while the other went to her fresh wound. Heat bloomed at both areas, and Ymir cried out suddenly at the bright flash of pain. But it disappeared as quickly it had come, and then Krista stepped back and watched, blue eyes lidded with exhaustion and brokenness. Ymir glanced down to see what had happened and felt a rush of joy when her scar began to dissipate. The purple-ish flesh melted away to normal, smooth skin, as did the wound at her side. In a minute both had healed, and Ymir gingerly touched at the spots to make sure that it was real. When her fingertips made contact with her undamaged skin, her heart soared. But Ymir frowned, because suddenly her happiness drained to sorrow and longing, and she turned in time to see Krista return to her throne.

“Thank you,” Ymir breathed. Krista noticed her frown.

“You do not remember me, do you?” Krista asked. She looked pained and hungry, and Ymir’s eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to think of what was causing it, and strangely, how to make it better.

“I… I don’t.” Ymir felt a tingle on her skin where the scar had been, and an empty sensation filled her chest. “But I think I should.”

Fresh tears spilled over Krista’s face, and despite the horns and the grandeur of her appearance, she looked small and broken. Ymir no longer battled with her strange impulse and out of pure gratitude, went over to the blonde and enveloped her in a tight embrace.

“How can a demon be so sad?”

Krista stifled a sob to release a short laugh. “How can a human be so dumb?” she countered.

Ymir took no offense. “Your horns don’t look so bad.”

“Your scar didn’t either. It was a precious, painful reminder.”

They fell silent. Ymir contemplated the sudden situation. Her wish had been granted, yet there she was, desperately holding a creature that should have disgusted her. All she felt was a tugging soreness, and her gut told her that to ease it, she had to comfort the demon. Eventually the silence grew too uncomfortable, because all Ymir could hear was Krista’s soft, even breaths. Almost as if she had fallen asleep.  

“I started a war,” Ymir uttered suddenly. She didn’t give pause for Krista to respond. “A year ago. I assassinated the Queen’s mistress and pinned it on a neighbouring Kingdom’s son. They went to war immediately. I was the Queen’s trusted captain, and she sent me out first to declare the new status of enemies in war. I used all the resources at my disposal, and planned for our army to march out to the north. We led the enemy with us, and close to here we went to battle. But the cold killed more warriors than swords did, and the enemy force quickly retreated. I managed to convince the Queen to let me try one more tactic, and I took the army even farther north. We were met with creatures, and I used the distraction to slip away. That was the only way I would have made it to the foot of the mountain without being eaten by a Bringr or a Dragonling. I sacrificed an entire army and took as much supplies as I could. They are probably all dead. It took a month for me to climb the mountain. I just barely managed to escape more beasts and the cold with my life. A few days ago, a warrior caught up with me. She had seen me slip away and had decided to follow in case I was up to something. She was furious and near death due to starvation. She had barely managed to survive on the scraps that I had left behind. We fought, and just before I lopped her head off she stuck a spear right through me.” Ymir fell silent. The echo of her voice rang unpleasantly in her ears. Even though the admission was morbid, Krista did not seem concerned. For an odd second, Ymir felt confused, as if she expected Krista to shed tears for the many lives lost and the betrayal to the Kingdom. But she didn’t.  

“You were younger than me when we first met,” Krista said. She lifted her head and met Ymir’s eyes. “In our first lifetime.”

Ymir swallowed and her stomach sank. “But you’re… you are a demon.”

“I was human before I became this.”

“How did it happen?”

Krista’s brows furrowed. “I remember how we met. You were stubborn about joining the army, even when you were so young. I found you in a grassy meadow, throwing about a wooden sword, yelling to the morning air. I hid at first to watch you. For the first few months you never noticed me. As time went by and your swings became more precise, I was entranced. I couldn’t take it anymore and one day moved out of the cover of the trees to greet you.” She chuckled suddenly, eyes glossing over with a memory. “You nearly fell over when I spoke. You never even sense me near, and the way your freckles lit up with a blush made my entire day. You were hostile at first, and downright rude. But I’d expected it already. I knew your personality better than you had. It was nice to finally interact, though you seemed very agitated in the beginning. But I grew on you. A year later we were married.”

Ymir’s eyes widened slightly. Even though her mind called bullshit, her heart pumped excitedly. Small tremors passed through her. “We were married?”

“We were,” Krista responded. “Happily. But you still joined the military. King Eren had just started a ludicrous war with King Titan, the Kingdom from the south. It was over a stupid argument. Eren had always been easily agitated, and even his best advisors could not stop him from sending over spies and assassins. The war happened quickly, and you had to leave me.”

_Ymir kept a hand on her sword to keep her balance, but her heart was stuttering hard in her chest. She clenched her teeth and took in a deep, shaky breath. It did not work. Krista sobbed in front of her, small fists rubbing furiously at her eyes to quell the tears._

_“I’m sorry,” Ymir uttered softly. She released the hilt of her sword to draw Krista to her. “You know that I don’t want to leave your side.”_

_“So don’t,” Krista choked out. “Stay with me.”_

_“The King gave me orders. I’m higher than a simple warrior now, Krista. I can’t just abandon my Kingdom—you.”_

_“But you are!” Krista yelled. She pressed a hand to her mouth and sobbed openly again. “What if you die? How will I go on?”_

_Ymir sighed softly. She toughened her expression, but really, she was trembling at the thought. Death did not frighten her. Ymir had already accepted her own mortality. It was Krista’s suffering that she feared so. “If I die,” Ymir started. She gently cupped Krista’s pinkened, wet cheek. “Then I will claw my way out of hell and back to you. I’ll kick Hade’s ass myself.”_

_Krista chocked on a sob that turned into a giggle. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”_

_“Okay, yeah. But you get what I mean.” Ymir wrapped her arms around Krista and rested her lips against the crown of her golden hair. “I promise you, Krista, that I will find my way back to you. Be it through hell fire or from within the very belly of a kraken. I will come back to you.”_

_Krista hated the chest plate digging into her chest and the hilt of Ymir’s sword pressing against her ribs. She wanted to feel Ymir’s warmth soak through her and reassure her. She wanted to feel the brunette’s firm muscle and the softness of her skin. But she couldn’t. So instead she stood on her toes and pulled the brunette down to touch their lips. After a desperate, painful kiss, she let Ymir go and stepped away from her._

_“Fine.” Krista sniffled and wiped at the last of her tears. “I will trust you. Please be safe.”_

_Ymir smiled. It wasn’t a snarky smile, or one tinged with cockiness. It was genuinely happy with just a hint of sorrow. Had Ymir not been so confident in her ability, then maybe she would have showed reluctance to go. But she gave the blonde a wink, turned on her heel and then mounted her beautiful black stallion. The horse kicked his heels excitedly, his corded muscles bunching and relaxing in preparation for a hard run. With a click of her tongue the horse darted off, and Ymir was gone._

_Krista stood in front of their home, fists pressed to her chest. Several days later, she would be knelt in the same spot, sobbing brokenly into the soul and clutching at the condolence letter sent to her by King Eren himself. All Krista could see behind her lids was Ymir’s dead shadow as she rode off into the fading sunlight, heading straight for her early death._

“…through hell fire or from within the very belly of a kraken. I will come back to you,” Ymir whispered, eyes widened in recollection. It had burst into her mind like an attack, flashing before her eyes as a painful, stark reminder. Krista’s fingers pressed to her wrist, and Ymir wondered if Krista had made her remember it. Her heart ached suddenly. Her chest felt too tight.

“After you died, I went crazy,” Krista admitted. “You never returned like you promised. So I turned to dark magic, and I summoned one of the dark Lords. She came at the tip of midnight, glory and darkness and death. I made a deal with her. If she brought you back to me, I would take her place as the Princess of Death. She agreed and brought you back. But I did not specify that you should return to my arms exactly, or to my timeline. I waited five hundred years before you were born again for the first time, as I went from door to door, battlefield to battlefield, claiming the lives that were at an end. I tried to go to you, but when we kissed, you died from shock in my arms. I had taken your life prematurely. You were born again, though, fifty years later. This time I merely watched you until you died of a lost limb in a battle. You at least died without a wife or a child—without anyone else to care for. You were like that in the many next lifetimes. You were always drawn to the war, to the military. You always shied away from another lover, and I did my best to keep my death’s touch from reaching you. Eventually I found a way to touch you without killing you, but it gave you that scar.” Krista’s eyes dropped to her lap. “You screamed in agony that night. I left. You were sobbing for me to stay. I never saw you again after that. I locked myself in here, and the Lord of Death had to reclaim her throne. I have been stuck ageless, emotionless for an eternity, waiting for that smile of yours.”

Ymir suddenly wished her scar was still there. Apparently she had been born with it—how many lifetimes had she carried it with her? Yearning for the one she had lost, looking while her sorrow brought her down to her knees?

Ymir wanted to ask if it was true, but her memories trickled in like a stream. Memories not from this life. They were so many that they filled her head close to bursting. Ymir clutched at her head and sucked in a breath. Life after life flashed before her, slipping along her consciousness until she could handle it no more and she tipped over and fell to the foot of the throne. Her eyes danced wildly behind her closed lids, even after Krista dropped by her side and eased dark hair from her face.

It would be a while until she would wake, but soon after she would pull Krista against her, and the two would sob together—in sorrow, in pain, but ultimately, in relief. Krista’s waiting was over. Ymir’s unbearable yearning was gone. They were finally complete.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Don’t forget to comment/subscribe. I hope that you enjoyed ^^


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